ward sisters

I have found a new family since mum has been hospitalised. I and the other daughters visiting their mums on Ward 12 are becoming our own support group. We share our concerns and laughter, update each other on what's been happening in our absence and look out for the patients who have no visitors. There's A in the far corner, so pale and frail and determined to escape her bed - one of the visitors regularly goes over to hold her hand and talk to her to settle her down. When necessary, we call the nurse. Then there's M, to mum's right, she has a beautiful smile and is mostly content to doze or read but occasionally becomes frightened for no obvious reason and clutches the side bars on her bed. We keep an eye out for her too.

Poor D in the bed opposite mum died quietly only an hour after her elderly brother had been to see her, I was there on the afternoon visit and felt annoyed on her behalf - her brother seemed to be ignoring her, spending all his time talking to the daughter of the patient in the next bed while D stared bleakly ahead or rested her head on her arms on the table in front of her. I was told later that the curtains were drawn round all the beds while the doctors attended her and she was taken from the ward; apparently mum was very distressed by this and insisted on sitting with the visitors at the bed on her left, demanding that her daughter (me) be contacted to call the police because "something's not right here!" The lady on mum's left seems to be the liveliest on the ward, a low blood pressure problem I think. The last patient, in the far right corner, rarely lifts her head from her pillow but has two daughters who take turns to spend every visiting time with her.

I think mum is giving up. The nurse told me today that she's hardly eating anything, I suspected as much as the last few visits she has preferred to spend most of her time lying down, not talking a great deal and certainly no sign of the old spitfire, in fact she seems pleased to see me! When she does talk, she sometimes appears confused, tonight I was astonished and dismayed to hear her wonder aloud why her brother hadn't been to see her. I had to tell her he'd passed away (we both went to his funeral), she didn't remember.

These are such strange times. I visit mum and hold her hand and stroke her hair and make her comfortable and its as though I finally have the mother/daughter relationship I always wanted, warm and tender. Now when there's so little time left and more than likely just before the storm aka 'going into residential care', I struggle to understand how I feel, especially when I return home and Mr Lily, thinking he is being supportive, continues to berate mum for all the stress of the past years. I know I've done my fair share of mum 'bashing' but it still makes uncomfortable listening.

I'm back at the doctor's tomorrow, for my official sick note. I'm going to ask him about a counsellor. I think its time.